


How to Woo a Wolf

by dontlietomehoney



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gift Giving, Grumpy Derek, Holidays, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Mates, Misunderstandings, Rogue wolf, Wooing, light frottage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-17 11:12:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3527129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontlietomehoney/pseuds/dontlietomehoney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What would you call it,” Derek asked.</p><p>Stiles sighed, running a hand over his face and wishing he had never gone after that damn omega because then he might have been able to avoid this conversation. He might have been able to avoid Derek altogether after what the wolf had said to him, and just let his feelings for Derek fade on their own. But he had, he had gone after that mangy mutt of a werewolf and taken it down to prove himself worthy of the pack of Derek because he had been… Stiles whined.</p><p>“Wooing, okay? I’d call it wooing you, Derek Hale.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	How to Woo a Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> So I was watching how to train a dragon and I thought... Teen Wolf. Derek. Stiles. Yes. And so I made it happen.

“What are you doing here, Stiles?” Derek growled.

Stiles smiled despite the older man’s grouchy greeting, and held up an armful of groceries. “I come bearing gifts!”

Derek arched an eyebrow, and Stiles sighed.

“I brought you food, dude,” he explained.

“Why?”

The younger boy let out a sound of exasperation and pushed past the older man into his house. “Everyone needs food, Derek. So, I brought you some.”

Derek followed the younger boy into the house, rolling his eyes as he did so, and watched as Stiles unloaded the brown paper bag onto the counter in the kitchen.

After a moment, he huffed. “I have food.”

Stiles smirked. “You don’t have _this_ food.”

“And for good reason,” the werewolf groused as he picked up a back of Cheetos. “I won’t eat half of it.”

Stiles snatched the bag of chips out of his hands. “Those are for me, asshole. I bought you the same kind of stuff I usually get for my dad, meaning leafy greens and other assortments of healthy choices.”

Derek’s eyebrows drew down on his forehead, his eyes focusing on Stiles. “And I ask again. Why?”

For the first time since bursting into the other man’s house, Stiles blushed. “No reason, geez, sourwolf. Can’t I just do something nice for you?”

Those eyebrows rose on Derek’s forehead. “No.”

Stiles just sighed and shook his head, continuing to unpack and put away the groceries from the bag. “You need to take care of yourself better,” he hummed when he was finished. “And this is the first step, dude. Good food. Good for you, good for your soul.”

Derek was silent for a long moment, just glaring at Stiles before he simply turned tail and left the kitchen. Stiles sputtered after him, watching the man climb the stairs without another word, and threw his hands up.

“Fine, I’ll just let myself out then!”

“Goodbye Stiles,” Derek growled.

***

“Now what are you doing?” Derek rumbled angrily.

Everyone in the room stilled, their eyes darting over to Derek and Stiles in the corner, the movie they were watching left as background noise. The younger boy was hovering near the other and running his hands over the man’s leather jacket.

“This thing is dirty, man, when was the last time you cleaned it?” he asked.

Derek’s eyes flashed bright blue as he turned on the younger boy, but Stiles didn’t jolt back even as the rest of the pack pushed forward a bit as if ready to get between them. Instead he reached up and flicked Derek on the forehead.

The older man reared back, blinking rapidly for a second and looking at Stiles with a stunned expression.

“There,” Stiles murmured with a smile and one last brush of his fingers over Derek’s shoulders. “All better.”

“What the hell is happening?” Isaac whispered.

Scott and Allison shook their heads while Lydia rolled her eyes.

“Do you need anything else?” Stiles asked as he sprang to his feet and gathered up his empty cup.

Derek looked dumbfounded for a moment before he rearranged his expression into a disgruntled one. He cleared his throat. “I didn’t need anything in the first place.”

Stiles shrugged. “Alright fine, no more soda for you then.” He turned to the rest of the pack. “Anyone else for a drink?”

Lydia happily held her glass up and Stiles smiled as he took it from her. As he disappeared around the corner to the kitchen everyone zeroed in on Derek once again.

The older man’s ears turned red, but he scowled regardless. “What?”

“What the hell was that, dude?” Scott stage whispered.

Derek’s frown deepened. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Lydia asked. She seemed astonished.

“What and you do?” Isaac turned to her.

The redhead tossed her head back and laughed. “Of course I do. I’m not a clueless boy.”

Derek’s eyebrows flew up and his head tilted to the side in mock interest. “Care to explain then?”

“Oh,” Allison breathed in sudden realization. “Oh, honey…”

“What?” Scott asked. “You know too?”

Allison patted Scott on the shoulder. “I’ll tell you later.”

“What?!”

Stiles meandered back in, then, and handed Lydia her refilled drink before going back to the seat beside Derek and plopping down. “So what’d I miss?”

There was a long silence until Stiles turned to all of them and gestured to the TV. “Guys? Have any of you been watching this movie?”

Derek huffed at him. “You didn’t miss anything.”

Stiles beamed and knocked his shoulder against Derek’s. “Thanks grumpy.”

The older man looked at the others, his eyes almost pleading as Stiles leaned against him permanently to finish watching the movie.

Lydia winked and Derek seemed to choke on air.

Stiles offered him a drink from his glass, concern clear on his face.

***

Derek stalked out of the woods, his hands dirty and his jeans ripped at the knees. He could see his breath billow out of his lips with every pant, but he didn’t care. He had successfully chased away the stray omega, though it hadn’t been done without a fight.

The man’s side still ached from where the other werewolf had torn into him.

But he was home, he could rest, and he knew the rest of the pack would be safe.

Derek let his shoulders slump with relief the farther up the drive he got, but he stumbled when he looked up and saw a wrapped box sitting on the first step of his staircase.

He stopped, looked around, and flared his nostrils to try and scent the air. He only smelled familiar things, though, the pack and the woods surrounding his home. So he approached.

The box wasn’t very big, maybe a foot long and four inches deep, and it was rather light when Derek picked it up too. The shiny green wrapping paper reflected his glowing eyes as he picked it up. He lifted it closer to his nose for a better smell, and scoffed when he finally got it.

“Stiles,” he growled. “Who else?”

He put the box under his arm and continued into his house. When he got to his room he threw the thing at the foot of his bed and went about showering and changing into sleep pants and a loose fitting t-shirt, but that damn wrapping paper was even brighter with lights on and Derek couldn’t ignore it any longer.

The man growled as he sat down, and pulled the box towards him, but he was very careful in the actual unwrapping of the thing. He used his claws to rip the tape at each end and unfolded the paper so he could slip the box out safely. Setting the paper aside, he lifted the lid and frowned.

There was a card.

Derek left the box in his lap and pulled the card from its envelope. It had a picture of a dog on it making a ridiculous face, and Derek snorted derisively.

He still flipped the card open though and read the words inside:

_Sourwolf,_

_I know it’s early, but I’ve seen your wardrobe and you’ll need these soon. So, stay warm for me, okay? Merry Christmas Derek,_

_Your favourite human, Stiles_

Derek hummed, slightly surprised there wasn’t a dog joke inside like there had been on the very cover of the card, and set it aside to finally look at the contents of the box.

He pulled out a scarf, a trapper hat, and gloves. All of the items were dark, pine green and soft to the touch. The hat and gloves were actually leather with a fur lining while the scarf was simply a knitted thing.

Derek ran his hands over each item, pleased that they were sturdy but still very soft. And when he put the scarf around his neck it didn’t even itch. Derek tugged the hat and gloves on too, and when he went to see them all on in the mirror an actual smile spread across his cheeks.

The green matched his eyes but it was dark enough that it didn’t make him look stupid.

It really was early, Christmas being two weeks away, but Stiles was right about the weather getting colder. And Derek appreciated the gift. It had been a very long time since he had received a gift from anyone besides Laura, and now she as well as Peter and Cora were gone.

Derek looked down at his hands, the memories of past holidays spent with family washing over him, and he wiggled his fingers to feel the warmth the gloves offered.

He frowned and padded heavily into his room again to find his phone and type out a quick message for Stiles:

**_Werewolves don’t need scarves to stay warm, Stiles. Our body temperatures naturally run hot._ **

Derek hesitated, deleted the message, and typed a new one:

**_Thank you_.**

He hit send.

***

“Happy New Year!”

The whole pack let out whoops of excitement, Isaac yipping happily while Scott and Allison sealed their lips together.

Derek sat on the sofa while he watched Lydia peck Stiles on the lips, and almost growled. The urge surprised him and only caused his frown to deepen.

Stiles quickly broke away from the girl, though, and twirled towards Derek.

“Happy New Year,” the boy sang as he flumped down beside the older man.

Derek scowled at him, but Stiles just smiled.

“This looks good on you,” Stiles hummed, his fingers picking at Derek’s scarf.

And Derek looked at those fingers wondering when he had let them get so close. Wondering when he had let _Stiles_ get so close.

“You didn’t have to do it, you know,” Derek tried gruffly.

“Woo- whoooo said I had to?” Stiles replied sweetly. A little drunkenly.

“No one said you had to,” Derek admitted though.

Stiles blinked heavily at him, his cheeks flush, and leaned towards him. Derek jerked back just in time to catch the boy against him without Stiles knocking their heads together. Stiles just murmured happily.

“I like giving you things,” he hummed against Derek’s neck. “Like seeing you wear that.”

“Why?” Derek asked, confusion evident in his voice.

The younger boy laughed, snuggled into Derek’s side. “Like….mmm,” Stiles’ voice garbled as he shifted one last time and sighed as he found a comfortable spot. Derek watched him with wide eyes, his arms somehow finding their way around the boy’s shoulders, and waited.

But Stiles was silent, and Derek realized the boy had fallen asleep on him.

He sighed, shaking his head, and looked to the others in the room. Allison danced around the room with Scott, dimples curving her cheeks while Scott’s teeth dug into his bottom lip for concentration. Lydia leaned against the wall talking softly to Jackson who, though he looked around the room with contempt, exuded his own happiness at being included. And Isaac chatted with Sheriff Stilinski and Melissa McCall.

Derek hadn’t expected to find himself spending the holiday with the pack, but Stiles had shown up at his house and somehow dragged him along. And now the same boy was asleep in his arms, and Derek didn’t want to admit how uninclined he was to moving him.

His lips curled into a small, soft smile, and he held the boy a little closer.

***

Over the following months Stiles continued to leave gift after gift at Derek’s doorstep. A blanket, another batch of groceries, books, a mug with “Up All Night to get LUCKY” scrawled across the front. Derek had scoffed at that one, but had nonetheless washed, used, and kept the thing. But what Derek liked best, though he would never admit it, were the pendent and the stuffed animal.

It was small and had been placed right at the center of Derek’s doormat for him to find. Heavy with quality metal, the pendent had been to Derek’s immediate liking and he had put it on his key ring alongside the fob for his Camaro.

The stuffed animal on the other hand, Derek kept a bit more hidden. The thing had reeked of Stiles, making Derek wonder if the younger boy had rubbed his hands all over the thing, or, more appealingly, kept the stuffed animal in his bed with him while he slept. Derek didn’t want to admit just how appealing that thought was when he went to bed himself and could smell the stuffed animal from his own bedside.

He didn’t even know how to process it really.

So he left it alone and simply wondered where Stiles had possibly found a little stuffed wolf with big, glassy, blue eyes and a blue plaid ribbon around its black furred neck.

Derek refused to admit even to himself how many times he had pulled the little thing closer and buried his nose against it, held it close, and fallen asleep. It had happened too many times, and yet Derek still felt like it wasn’t quite enough.

***

Derek stood in the doorway of his kitchen and watched Scott and Stiles arguing. And he was _baffled_ if not angry and getting angrier.

He hadn’t invited the boys over, he hadn’t invited them _in_. And yet there they were, in his kitchen, in his home and the two boys were racketing back and forth about who was going to load the dishwasher. Scott maintained that he shouldn’t have to do it because he hadn’t wanted to come in the first place, and though Stiles argued that Scott should in fact help he was already rinsing dishes and putting them in the washer by himself.

“How,” Derek started forward with a growl and the boys whirled around with surprise, “did you even get in here?”

Scott floundered and Stiles didn’t do much better.

Derek swept his arm out towards the living room. “The door was locked. I wasn’t even here. How did you get in, and what are you doing here?”

“Well,” Stiles murmured nervously as he dried his hands.

“Well?” Derek urged.

“Scott asked me-”

“No, dude, I didn’t,” Scott cut in indignantly.

Stiles threw the other boy a glare and Scott crossed his arms.

“Stiles,” Derek growled. “Explain.”

The younger boy fidgeted. Derek sighed and reigned himself in.

“Please,” he bit out.

“Okay,” Stiles murmured. “Um. So, as to how we got in? I kind of, sort of, made a copy of your key when you bought the knob during construction.” Derek’s chest rumbled with a fierce snarl at the invasion of privacy and Stiles rushed on to explain. “I’ve never used it before or anything. But- but I wanted to make you cookies, and so I did. I brought Scott with me to be the… um, lookout. Obviously that didn’t help though.”

Scott shrugged. “I agreed because you said I could lick the spoon.”

Derek’s eyebrows scooped down into a scowl, but he let himself smell the air for the first time, taking in the warmth and the sweetness of the sugar he found there. It made something unfurl in his chest, but he still made a point to stalk towards the boy in front of him, and he caged the boy in against the counter with his arms.

Scott uncrossed his arms, reached out as if ready to intervene, but stayed where he was.

Stiles stared up at Derek with wide eyes.

“Cookies?” the werewolf asked. “You broke into my house to make cookies?”

“I wouldn’t say broke in,” Stiles laughed anxiously. Derek snapped his teeth at the boy, sharpening them just a bit, but not letting his fangs and canines lengthen fully. Stiles jolted back, tilted his head to the side to bare his neck and swallowed thickly. “Yeah. Cookies.”

“Why do you keep doing this?” Derek asked.

“Doing what?” Stiles murmured shakily.

The older man shook his head, took a step back when he scented something other than cookies in the air, something close to fear but bordering on something far more inappropriate, and grunted. “Coming here, coming to my house to give me groceries and gifts and _cookies_ and- - Why, Stiles? What are you trying to do?”

“Dude,” Scott stepped forward.

Stiles waved him off. “I’m trying to be nice, Derek.”

“Why?”

“Being part of the pack isn’t reason enough?”

“You’re not part of the pack,” Derek said before he could think.

Stiles’ head snapped up, the small sound of a choked gasp escaping his lips, and he stared at Derek. “Not…” he cleared his throat, looked away. “Not part of the pack.”

“Derek,” Scott shook his head, saying Derek’s name like a scolding.

The older man didn’t know what to say, didn’t know why he had said _that_ when all of those gestures, everything Stiles was doing and had done had _always_ pointed towards pack. Possibly towards more, but Derek wasn’t willing to think about that yet. He was more focused on the hurt and the anxiety he scented off of Stiles in waves. It made his anger pull back like the snap of a rubber band.

The boy nodded though. “Right. Of course. I- I shouldn’t have- I shouldn’t be here.”

“Stiles,” Derek whispered, realizing what he had done.

But the boy was already moving, reaching out for Scott and pulling him along.

“Stiles wait,” Derek said louder than before, followed them through the house.

But Stiles started running, he ran straight to his jeep with Scott right behind him, and then they were gone.

Derek watched them go, the blue jeep rocketing down the drive and farther, farther, farther. Derek wanted to run after them, run after Stiles, but he couldn’t seem to make himself move in the right direction. Instead of following Stiles he retreated back into the house, trailed slowly back into the kitchen, and took in the sight of two plates full of cookies on the counter opposite the sink half full of dishes.

The cookies were his favourite, macadamia and white chocolate, and before Derek knew what he was doing one of the plates was sailing through the air. The plate shattered against the cupboards, the cookies breaking as they fell to the floor, and Derek felt that familiar tightness returning to his chest.

He threw his head back and roared.

***

Derek didn’t hear from Stiles or the rest of the pack for a week, and even then it was only to tell him that the omega he had chased away months ago was back. He would have told Scott that he would take care of it, but before he could the younger boy was explaining the urgency.

“Stiles,” Scott wheezed. “Stiles went after it.”

“What?!” Derek nearly howled.

“He wanted-” there was a clatter on the other end of the line as if Scott was running. “He wanted to prove he was part of the pack.”

“He-”

“Yeah,” Scott huffed. “He wanted to prove to _you_ that he was part of the pack. Now get your ass out here and help us find him. Help us save him. You owe him that much.”

Derek’s fingers tightened around his phone. “I owe him more than that.”

Scott grunted. “Damn right you do. Now hurry the fuck up!”

“I’m on my way.”

“We’re-”

“I’ll find him,” Derek cut in, and then he was running.

And he did. He found Stiles’ scent the moment his feet hit the ground of the preserve. It was stronger than usual, Derek able to scent the boy before he even heard him. It was all sweat and fear and pain and- - Derek strained to go faster.

There was blood in the air.

***

Stiles staggered back, his bat slipping from his fingers and his vision spotting out. The omega was lying unconscious at his feet, and Stiles felt pride swelling in his chest even as his legs wobbled and he sank to the ground on his hands and knees.

“I did it,” he panted.

He had stopped the omega.

He had protected the pack.

His pack.

“I- I am part of the pack,” Stiles breathed earnestly.

But the boy’s world slid sideways a moment later, a soft grunt escaping his lips as his shoulder hit the damp earth and his eyes slipped shut. He thought he might have heard someone call his name, but Stiles couldn’t be sure.

He may have taken down the omega, but he had taken down the omega as a human against wolf. And he hadn’t gotten away unscathed.

Claw marks stained his shirt red where the omega had torn into his side, and his head pounded from the knock it had taken when he was thrown against a tree.

It all faded quickly, though, Stiles’ limbs growing heavier by the second, and a surprising warmth seeping into him when something jostled against his side.

“I’m pack,” he said again, nearly pleaded, his voice barely audible even to his own ears, before he let himself go completely into the darkness that had clouded his vision.

***

 “He needs a hospital!”

“I’m keeping him here.”

“Derek, what the hell is your problem? You told him a week ago he wasn’t part of the pack and now you won’t let him out of your sight?”

Stiles felt a pang in his chest, but his mind was too foggy to really register it. He wasn’t even sure he was really awake. He knew he was in bed though and tried to roll over. Pain flared in his side and Stiles whined high in his throat.

A hand pressed against his ribs and the pain seeped out of him. The voices started up again.

“You’ll be okay, Stiles. I’ll take care of you.”

“Take care of him?” the other voice scoffed. “You _caused_ this!”

“Scott,” the first voice growled. “Either get out or- -”

Stiles tuned the voices out as they continued on back and forth. He was far more focused on the soft surface he was lying on, warmth pulling him down and down and down as the pain continued to siphon out of his ribs and leave his head feeling floaty.

He let himself float.

***

“You are pack.”

Stiles rose to the surface once again to the voice of someone close by.

“You are pack, Stiles. I’m sorry I said you weren’t. I… I was scared.”

 _Of what?_ Stiles wanted to ask, but his mouth felt full of cotton and all he could do was shift slowly closer to the voice.

A warmth pressed against Stiles’ face, stopping him for a moment before pulling him closer.

“I was scared before, Stiles, but it was nothing compared to this. Nothing compared to finding you in the preserve alone with that omega. Finding you hurt like that. I’ll never let that happen again, Stiles, I promise.”

 _Good_ , Stiles tried to say. He more or less mumbled and shortly after let himself fall further into the warmth that had pressed against him.

He was still so tired.

***

When Stiles finally woke up for good, he was pressed against the mattress by a full bodied weight. And that full body belonged to Derek.

Stiles spluttered when he saw the older man draped over his chest, fast asleep, and pushed at the wolf’s shoulders.

“D’rek,” he grunted almost desperately.

He didn’t remember getting into Derek’s bed. Hell, Stiles barely remembered his own name with the pain pounding against the insides of his skull. But he knew this wasn’t right, despite how much he had dreamed of waking up in similar conditions.

Derek had never wanted him, had said as much when he told Stiles he wasn’t part of the pack.

But… Stiles stilled in his writhing attempts to get free of the bigger man’s hold. But Stiles had- -

“I stopped the omega,” he breathed. “I stopped him!”

Derek jerked at the sudden exclamation while Stiles groaned at his own stupidity and curled in on himself as much as he could with Derek _freaking_ Hale draped all along his front. Except Derek kept moving, his head lifting up and his arms tightening around Stiles’ middle, and- - huh, when did those get there?

The older man’s eyes went from sleepily confused to wide and alert in a matter of a second and Derek was up on all fours with his hands and knees caging Stiles in.

“Stiles,” he murmured. And then he sniffed the air around the boy, his nose close to Stiles’ neck.

Stiles blinked up at him, surprised and slightly amused if he was being honest with himself. Derek looked unexpectedly canine in his movements. Well- - as unexpectedly canine as a werewolf could look like anything else.

“You’re still in pain,” Derek stated before the boy could comment.

“I stopped the omega,” he repeated dumbly as if it were answer enough. And, really, it was. The omega had been the one to cause Stiles the pain he was in, but it still didn’t explain why it was Derek taking care of him instead of Scott or even Stiles’ father. Or, even better, medical professionals.

“You shouldn’t have,” Derek replied earnestly.

Stiles felt the same ache in his chest as he had a week previous, the same hurt that Derek didn’t think he was pack.

The older man surprised him, though, and dropped back down to his side to pull Stiles against his chest. The boy squawked at the sudden nearness, but Derek simply held him tighter.

“You shouldn’t have had to fight him alone,” the wolf whispered.

And, oh. Stiles hadn’t been expecting that. He hadn’t been expecting the hurt in his own chest to be echoed in Derek’s voice.

“You said-”

“I was wrong,” Derek cut him off immediately. “I was stupid. You are pack, you’ve always been pack Stiles. I’m sorry I told you otherwise.”

Stiles pulled back as much as he could, which wasn’t much, to gape at the older man. “You’re apologizing? Are you- - am I- - is this for real right now? Or am I still dreaming?”

“It’s real,” Derek growled, digging his forehead into the curve of Stiles’ neck. His nose pressed into the boy’s collarbone and he breathed in. Stiles realized the wolf was shaking. “This is real, Stiles. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I said those things. I’m sorry you got hurt. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you. I-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Stiles interrupted and threw an arm around the bigger man’s middle. “Whoa, Derek, man, you need to stop right there. I’m the idiot that tried to take on a werewolf by myself.”

Derek seemed to revel in the fact that Stiles held him back- yet another shock for Stiles- but shook his head at the boy’s words.

“If I hadn’t-”

“Stop,” Stiles insisted. “Yeah, what you said was shitty and I was hurt, but ultimately I was the one who ran into the forest alone trying to prove something that I already _knew_ was true. I just- I wanted you to know too. But, that doesn’t make this your fault. Honestly, if anything, it’s on the both of us. But two stupid decisions have to cancel out somehow, right?”

“I shouldn’t have said you weren’t pack, Stiles,” Derek murmured after a long pause.

The younger boy groaned and flopped his head back on the pillows. The movement made his head ache more, but Derek shifted as if he sensed it and pressed a warm hand to the back of Stiles’ neck. The pain drained away.

Both of them were quiet again, Derek breathing against the younger boy’s chest and Stiles trying to process everything that had happened and been said. He finally gave into his curiosity, though, and asked the question that had been swimming around his head for a week.

“Why did you say it then?”

“I was scared,” Derek replied instantly. The way he said those words, the way he tensed against Stiles but let his lips form the words anyways, they were like an offering.

And Stiles accepted them, remembered them from when he had almost woken up before, and ran his palm up and down the older man’s spine. Before long he let his hand drift up the back of Derek’s neck and mirrored the embrace the wolf still had on him as well. It was intimate and everything Stiles had ever wanted, but Derek was still tense against him.

“What were you scared of?” he asked.

Derek whined at the back of his throat, the sound inaudible, but Stiles felt the vibration of it on his shoulder.

“I…” Derek took a shaky breath. “When I came home and found you and Scott here- - when I came home and found you inside when I had locked the door and hadn’t been expecting you…”

Stiles closed his eyes and breathed as shallowly as the wolf beside him. He couldn’t believe he had been so stupid as to walk into a wolf den uninvited, especially when that wolf had such a bad history with unwelcomed guests. “I wanted to surprise you,” he murmured. “But not like that.”

“I know you’re not Kate,” Derek growled though the sound was entirely unthreatening. “I know you’re not the alpha pack or my uncle or anyone else trying to hurt me, but when I heard- - when I knew the door had been locked and I heard people inside, I- - I’m sorry.”

“No,” Stiles shook his head. “Dude, _I’m_ sorry. I was- I shouldn’t have surprised you like that.”

“Why did you?”

The question had been asked softly, the words touching Stiles’ skin where Derek’s lips were still so close to his neck.

Stiles swallowed thickly. “I, um- I was just…”

Derek waited when Stiles struggled to continue, and the younger boy held the alpha tighter. It felt like it would be his last chance.

“I was trying to get you to like me,” Stiles finally admitted with a sigh.

Derek went rigid in Stiles’ embrace. The younger boy felt his heart sink into his stomach, but before he could detach himself from the older man, Derek pulled himself away just enough to look into Stiles’ eyes.

“All of that, all of those gifts and the cookies and the food and-” realization seemed to dawn on the wolf’s face. “You were _grooming_ me?”

“Don’t sound so put out about it,” Stiles snapped defensively though the tone of Derek’s voice did cause the boy to feel as if his recently descended heart was somehow dropping even farther. He continued meekly, “And I wouldn’t call it grooming.”

“What would you call it,” Derek asked.

Stiles sighed, running a hand over his face and wishing he had never gone after that damn omega because then he might have been able to avoid this conversation. He might have been able to avoid Derek altogether after what the wolf had said to him, and just let his feelings for Derek fade on their own. But he had, he had gone after that mangy mutt of a werewolf and taken it down to prove himself worthy of the pack of Derek because he had been… Stiles whined.

“Wooing, okay? I’d call it wooing you, Derek Hale.”

Derek blinked. “Wooing.”

“Yes!” Stiles nearly shrieked. He would have thrown his arms around too, but when he tried the nip of pain from his wounds turned into a full on, nasty, chew through the bones bite.

The older man pulled Stiles closer immediately and slipped his hand under Stiles’ shirt to press his palm to the younger boy’s stomach. Stiles gasped as the pain drained away, his vision spotty for a moment, and set his hand atop Derek’s on his skin. The wolf was warm, his veins black with the pain he pulled from Stiles, and the younger boy couldn’t help but drop his forehead against the crook of Derek’s neck.

“You were wooing me,” Derek stated in the quiet of the room.

Stiles groaned obnoxiously into Derek’s shoulder. “Dnn m-n mm.”

Derek looked down at the boy curiously. “What was that?”

Stiles huffed and shuffled around a bit but didn’t take his hand off of Derek’s and certainly didn’t take the older man’s hand off his stomach. Once he settled, though, he braved another look at Derek and gave in. He had already said too much anyways. “I said ‘Don’t remind me’ okay? I know it was stupid and futile and,” the boy scoffed sadly, “ _unrequited_ for fucks sake. But I- I had to try, you know? I’m not the kind of guy that just doesn’t try.”

Derek stared at the boy, shocked and unbelieving of what was tumbling from Stiles’ lips. But at the same time he felt a warmth in his chest that combatted the sickly cold pull of pain at his fingertips coming from the younger boy.

Stiles liked him.

Stiles had been trying to _“woo”_ him.

Derek’s lips tugged into a small smirk.

Stiles really had been grooming him. The boy had given him new clothes of a sort when he had given Derek the scarf, hat, and gloves. And then Stiles had cleaned his dirty jacket and tried to clean his house before Derek had-

The wolf frowned.

Stiles noticed the older man’s grimace and matched it, looked away and curled in on himself a bit. He let his fingers lose their grip on Derek’s hand. “Right, um… Sorry I was being so pushy about it.”

“Stiles,” Derek growled admonishingly.

The younger boy looked at him again, his eyes impossibly wide, and licked his lips. “Y-yeah?”

Derek didn’t know what to say. Or, rather, didn’t know how to say it. He didn’t know how to tell the boy that he had appreciated every gift and gesture. He didn’t know how to say that he had never meant to tell Stiles he wasn’t a part of the pack. What he wanted to say… was far different. Derek wanted to tell him that Stiles was more than pack. That he was _mate_. That he would always be welcome into Derek’s house and the older man would do his damn best to not freak out when that happened. Because he knew he would never find anyone like Stiles again. Never wanted to look when he knew his mate was already in the circle of his arms and offering him what he was finally realizing he had wanted from the start.

The older man sighed, closing his eyes and tilting his head so their foreheads knocked together softly. Stiles made a curious noise at the back of his throat, and Derek blinked his eyes open. They glowed blue, and before Derek could find a reason to stop himself, he stretched his neck that much farther and slotted their lips together.

Stiles squawked, his breath rushing in fast and his hands finding Derek’s shoulders out of surprise before they took hold with need.

The kiss was soft at first, Stiles’ smooth lips moving somewhat gracelessly against Derek’s, and the older man realized that this was the boy’s first. That he would be Stiles’ first everything if the boy would have him.

Oh, how he wanted Stiles to have him.

And he opened his lips to push questioningly at Stiles’. The boy sighed happily and opened as well, welcomed the wet heat of Derek’s tongue before pushing back with his own and following it with a nip of his teeth.

Derek’s hand slid around Stiles’ waist and dipped into the curve of his spine, never breaking contact, and the younger boy pushed their chests together as Derek pulled. Muted noises, moans and broken whimpers, escaped Stiles’ lips. Derek’s chest vibrated with something akin to a purr.

Until Stiles pulled back.

His lips were swollen and red, his eyes glazed with need and want and…

“Is this real?” the boy asked. “Are we really doing this? Cause after the week I’ve had, I don’t think I could handle you doing this out of pity or a joke or-”

Derek silenced the boy by pushing their mouths together again, though briefly, and nuzzling against his cheek. Scenting him.

“I would never joke about this, Stiles,” he explained. “Not after… Not after Kate.”

Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck.

“I didn’t mean to push you away like that. I didn’t mean to make you think you were anything less than a vital part of this pack. But I did, and I’m sorry. But I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t mean it or want it. I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t want you, Stiles. I want you.” Derek pressed his lips to the boy’s neck and a moment later tilted his head back to offer his own. He closed his eyes and waited.

Stiles stared at him for a long moment, taking in the act of submission before slowly lowering his own mouth close to the older man’s neck. “Are you sure?” he whispered.

And Derek nodded. “Yes.”

The boy’s teeth dug into the jut of Derek’s neck, not deep enough to break skin, but hard enough to accept what the wolf was offering; hard enough to mark him. Derek shuddered, a thready whine rising in his chest, but he carded his fingers through Stiles’ hair and held him there for a long minute before he let the boy go.

Stiles licked his lips and eyed the indents he had left behind, wondering how long they would last. Hoping they would last forever.

Derek’s chest heaved as he pulled the boy down yet again and crashed their mouths together. Stiles groaned, minding his side, and rolled on top of the older man. This kiss was heated.

Derek kept one hand pressed against Stiles’ back, but moved the other down and down until he could feel the curve of the boy’s ass against his palm and didn’t move any further. Stiles pushed into it, into Derek, and slotted their legs together for better friction. Derek growled in appreciation and ground their hips together. It wasn’t long before Stiles was feeling dizzy though, and pulled back.

“Oh my god,” the boy panted as he all but collapsed on the wolf’s chest. He pushed his sweaty forehead against Derek’s neck and clung to him. “We are so going to do more of that, _way_ more of that, but-” Stiles licked his lips and nuzzled against the scruff on Derek’s chin. “I think I still need some rest, as unfortunate as that is.”

The older man loosened his grip on the boy and swept the damp hair away from Stiles’ eyes. The younger boy smiled.

“The whole fighting a rogue werewolf thing really took it out of me. And I don’t think the pain drain from you is helping me keep my mind very clear at the moment.”

Derek made a wounded sound and quickly tried to disentangle himself from the mess of their limbs, but Stiles only held on more tightly.

“Hey, no. No, no, no. ‘M just tired. Okay? And the pain drain makes me feel so good,” Stiles groaned. “So good, okay? Just need to sleep some more.”

“Are- are you sure?”

Stiles smiled dopily and nodded. “Yeah, Sourwolf, I’m sure.”

Derek felt the tension slowly bleed away, and let his own lips curl into a tentative smile. Stiles seemed satisfied with what he saw and laid his head back down on Derek’s chest before promptly falling asleep. The older man held him, made sure to keep him still a he slept to prevent any more damage to his wounds, and sighed contently.

He thought back to the New Year’s Eve party and remembered the way Stiles had fallen asleep against him then as well.

The memory made Derek smile.

He truly had found his mate. Now he just had to make sure he didn’t screw things up again. Derek vowed to do his damn well best to keep Stiles happy from that moment on, and knew that just by making his mate happy, that he would be happy too.

“Pack,” he murmured into the boy’s hair.

Stiles mumbled and pushed his face more firmly into Derek’s neck. The wolf wasn’t sure how the boy could breathe like that, but he wasn’t going to complain about the proximity of this boy ever again.

He had been wooed.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos or comments??? I hope you liked it :D 
> 
> come say hi at i-want-you-to-howl-for-me.tumblr.com


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